


Rushing Water

by Acemativity



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Going without food? not a funny topic ): very self imagey and hurty, Hurt No Comfort, I just wanted to emphasize some things people overlook/what atlus jokes about', Malnutrition, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Self-Esteem Issues, So.... many... ellipses, Yusuke is just a fave and he's so beautifully tragic in some regards, super short, then it transitions into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acemativity/pseuds/Acemativity
Summary: "Come closer, look at me suffer."- - -The color blue wakes you up. Signifies sadness, sorrow. Emptiness, like a system running on only inspiration as food. Intentional or not, everyone likely associates Yusuke with blue.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Rushing Water

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, this is NO hurt and comfort -- there is no comfort in this one, just hurt, though there is the mention of others worrying and a lover (unnamed, fill in the blank of who they are if you wish !) who really does care about him and his safety... I may add more to this with comfort as a second chapter one of these years? We'll just have to see!! Please be safe and if anything is too upsetting, I care more for all your safety and mental health than anything else !! <3<3<3

His mind is a river. Never stagnant, powerful in its push, despite the calm appearance from afar.

Come closer and you can watch the waves whisper, rocking at the edges as it tries to grasp onto the rocks in the sand and dirt-- or perhaps it’s reaching out for someone, anything.. Something concrete and solid enough to grapple for. His mind is a river, rushing and pushing with the desperation and pain of betrayal of a body being pushed under. His mind is loud, crashing-- it never shuts up, never knows how or when to settle, not with the practices drilled into his thick skull.

 _Come closer_ , look at me suffer. Look at how I reach out with outstretched, bony fingers and long fingernails. Watch how my muscles strain and shift under my pale skin, shivering violently from the cold waters of my own mind and very little body fat, fed very little after years of punishment and encouragement.

_"You can eat when you finish my piece, little one. You fucking brat, I told you to finish this last night! You expect food or sleep after this shit? Come with me. **NOW."**_

Watch how fast I can _flinch_ at any sudden movement noise, appreciate my pitiful starving student appearance, how pretty and sad I look, like a stray dog chained up and kept outside. Now stop, stop stop stop-- don’t look at me. Don’t **LOOK** at _me_ , look at what I’ve _created._

I would be nothing without my work. I am nothing without my work. It is all I have, for it is my existence and what keeps me alive. Even without my sensei, it is my meal ticket. It is my life, my entire being. I must draw, I must keep this alive, just as I must keep myself alive.

For art itself. For beauty-- even if my concave belly may receive tearful gazes from those who truly love me, even if the protrusion of fingerbones appears much more defined when slotted between my lover’s normal fingers. Art is a sense of beauty and normalcy and it is the only way I may ever experience either.


End file.
